


A Road Daily Traveled

by space_sauce



Category: MCU, Marvel, The Punisher - Fandom, daredevil - Fandom
Genre: A what if he’d picked Karen, F/M, Fluff, domestic AU, i hope they renew for a third season, in a dream world where frank gains some chill, the fluffiest tiny drabble
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-19 20:31:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17608436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/space_sauce/pseuds/space_sauce
Summary: Frank walks home at the end of his day.This is a fluffy domestic tiny drabble. I might add more later.





	A Road Daily Traveled

Frank walked out of the train turnstile and into the freezing city street. When it’s 7 degrees you can’t control your muscles tensing to the weather. All his old injuries have been flaring up since the temperatures dropped under 20, hips aching and joints tight. He tramped through the snow. The satisfying salt crunch under his feet helped distract him from the temperature. He found a steady walking rhythm, thinking in time to the crunch. “What’s for dinner? Don’t forget you’re running Curtis’ meetings for him while he’s out of town.” Crunch crunch crunch.

Frank took a deep breath, cold air stinging his nostrils, and forcibly relaxed his shoulders with the exhale. His muscles released and he felt some heat collecting in his stomach as his circulation opened up. That feeling of silent calm in the buzzing winter air was his favorite part of this season. Karen didn’t like anything about winter. She was lanky, fair skinned, and too stubborn to give into the cold feeling. He laughed to himself thinking of her fighting an entire season.

He fell in-step with the line of bundled commuters on the neighborhood sidewalks, all headed directly home and into the final warmth of the day. Frank rounded his street corner and stepped onto the stoop of his brownstone. The door was tricky in the winter but with a slight jiggle to the lock the front door swung inward for him. Frank pushed it closed behind him and shook himself out in the foyer. Their mailbox was empty which meant Karen had beat him home. Frank climbed the stairs to their apartment on the top floor, hips and knees aching but warming himself up with every step. He tried to think about using his core, to give his damaged joints a break. Re-training his body to recover from past damage has been a never ending task. He spent so long patching himself enough to keep running, the concept of caring for his body was foreign to him. It took active and daily reminders. 

Kicking off his snow boots on the landing, Frank opened the door and felt that final exhale of being home at the end of a long day. Long week. Long year. Long life. Like it all built up to this final release. But he knows it’s just a feeling, tomorrow evening will feel the same way. The house is noisy, different from the snow dampened street, he can hear the radiators and the steady drip coming from the bathtub. They’ve been running the building’s ancient pipes to keep them from bursting in the January temperatures. Frank strips off his gloves, hat, and scarf; piling them on a table with Karen’s. He peels off his jacket, somehow he’s gotten sweaty on that freezing walk home. Their apartment is warm, he takes off his sweater and socks in an attempt to remove all barriers from himself and the comforting feeling his home gives him.

Frank walks down the hall and into the kitchen where he finds Karen. It’s a glorious sight. She’s wearing her oversized headphones, typing furiously on her laptop, dressed in a large grey Iron Man T Shirt and cozy looking pajama bottoms. Surrounded by dirty and used cooking utensils, she’d cleared off enough space to plant her laptop on the counter and was sitting awkwardly on the kitchen step ladder. The oven was on and cooking some casserole that smelled delicious. Frank inhaled happily, Karen turned to him,

“Lasagna’s got 20 more minutes. I’m almost done here.” Karen half shouted over whatever was playing on her headphones.

Frank smiled at her, nodding in recognition. He dipped down and kissed the top of her head. She rubbed his cheek without looking up from her screen. He then started on all the dishes she had scattered around her. Their meal tradition: if you cook, the other cleans the dishes. The warm water felt nice on his fingers, it didn’t take long to clean through everything. He wiped down the counters around Karen (she blew him a kiss in response) and then walked to the living room to collapse on the couch. Karen eventually joined him. She bent down over the back of the couch and traced his jawline.

“Wake up potato face, we have dinner waiting.”

Frank smiled without opening his eyes. She leaned down to kiss his lips. He kissed her back. Then Karen started playfully kissing his cheeks and nose and closed eyelids. “I’m so glad you’re home!”

Frank opened is eyes, “Me too.”


End file.
